


Fleeting Moments

by judasetcetera



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen, General Military Warning, Improper Use of Magitek Armor, Other, Reader Insert, Starts as Fluff but Turns to Angst, pre-experiment!Kefka, reader has ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judasetcetera/pseuds/judasetcetera
Summary: You and Kefka are military buddies. You've grown fond of him, but there's darkness on the horizon.
Relationships: Kefka Palazzo/Reader Insert
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Basic training, you remember, was hell. You were made to do sometimes outright ridiculous exercise routines, rain or shine, the obstacle courses were hell, the training drills worse– not to mention the constant demeaning and menacing from your drill sergeant.

Still, you managed to make friends with at least one person.

He was a bit scrawny to be a soldier, you remember, but at least he was pleasant to look at. He was something of a joker, too, always cracking dark jokes when he could fit them in. You remember, too, that in spite of looking more like a toothpick than a proper soldier, he did phenomenally in his physical training as well as his written exams. It was something you envied, to be honest.

You just couldn’t remember his name to save your life. Was it Piangi? Pluto? Something with a ‘p’, you remember that much…

“[name],” he said, bringing you back to the present as he waved his hand in front of your face.

“Huh? What?” You blinked out the last of your reminiscing as you looked up at him from your seat.  
  
“I said, glad we’re not at the front lines, huh?” He cocked his head to the side, a bit of a smile on his face. “Heard it was hell out there from one of the generals.”  
  
“Yeah,” you said, finally. “You know… I’m worried we’re the bad guys. Nothing is changing under the Emperor’s rule. You notice that?”

Your friend nods quietly. “You’re right,” he mutters finally, after a moment of silence. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I came here to change things for the better, not make them worse.”  
  
“Me too,” you reply. “I wanted to, you know… level the playing field for everyone.”  
  
“Honestly? I came here just to make sure I stay fed and clothed.” He takes a sip from his issued tin mug, wincing at how bitter his drink was. He looked around and then, stealthily as he could, added a few more sugar cubes to his drink. You smile a little– so he has a sweet tooth. You honestly couldn’t help it– in a way, it was almost cute.

You frown a little at that line of thinking. _Oh no. Don’t tell me I’m developing feelings for someone whose name I can’t even remember._

Before he could even get in another sip of his drink, a higher-ranking soldier marches to where you two sit. “Sergeant Palazzo,” the man says. _So that’s his name,_ you think. “You’re wanted back at General Christoph’s tent.”  
  
“Oh, crap,” Kefka spits out. “What did I do _this time?_ ” You bite back a chuckle, but can’t help a smile.

“Not for trouble,” the man says, “ _this time._ Come on, now. No lollygagging.”

“I’ll be back, [name],” Kefka tells you reassuringly. “Make sure no one drinks my coffee.”

“Roger that,” you reply, mock-saluting Kefka. Off he goes on the heels of the officer that summoned him. You sigh, resting your chin on your hand as you pick at your rations. Something about him makes you feel… fulfilled, perhaps? But how could that be? It’s not like you and him are–

You stop yourself there, pursing your lips. This is ridiculous. You ranked, what, 40th in the exams? Kefka was orders of magnitude ahead of you; even _if_ you were inclined towards him, he was way out of your league. You put your focus on eating, shoveling rather plain food into your mouth. It takes your mind off of things for a little, which you’re grateful for. You don’t need to think about him, the way he smiles when he cracks a joke– the way his smile reaches up to his eyes; you don’t need to remember all of the times he was there to lend an ear to your problems during basic training.

And yet, here you are, thinking of those things.

You set down your silverware and sigh. Perhaps it’s infatuation, after all. You rest your head on your hand, looking ahead. _This isn’t fair,_ you think to yourself. _Why couldn’t it have been someone from home that I could come back to? Why did it have to be someone that could die at a moment’s notice? Why–_

Kefka takes his seat in front of you, barely containing a grin. “Guess who just got promoted?”

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” you exclaim in surprise. “I never saw you rising past Private 2, what with all of the trouble you make!”  
  
“You have no faith in me, [name]!” Kefka takes another sip of his coffee.

“I do so have faith in you,” you reply. “I just know how you are.”

“’nd how’s that?” He cocks his head to one side with a sly smile, as if daring you to say _exactly_ what’s on your mind.

And to be honest, you have a _lot_ on your mind when it comes to him.

What comes out of your mouth is, “That you’re a little shit.” What’s on your mind is, _That you’re too good for this place, that you could change the course of history if you were in charge._

Kefka doesn’t seem to notice your dishonesty, but chuckles nonetheless. “Everyone says that, you know.”

“Because it’s true.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry, I’m supposed to do _what?”_

Kefka shrugs. “I don’t make things like that up, [name],” he says. “Hope you remember that part of training.”

“Not really!” You can feel your blood pressure rising already. Here you were thinking that only certain people had to pilot the Magitek Armors, people with mechanical know-how and better hand-eye coordination… and of higher rank than you. But here you were, meant to recall the bare-bones basics that were taught to you what feels like years ago, though the reality was that you had only been in service for a few months.

“Maybe looking at one will jog your memory.” You feel Kefka’s hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you to where the Magitek Armors are stationed. You can’t help but move along, feeling blood slowly rise to your cheeks. “I’ve been told it’s a great privilege to operate one of the Armors. You should feel flattered; I’ve yet to do so, myself.”

“Listen,” you say as you approach the hangar, “I know that. I just want to know why it has to be _me_ doing this and not… not…”

“Me?” Kefka looks at you, as if to affirm that he’s right.

“Yeah.” You hurriedly look away, feeling the blush on your cheeks deepen. “You’re higher rank than me, and… y’know… it only seems more appropriate that someone like you pilots one of those things.”

“Maybe the top brass thinks I’d run someone down,” Kefka says with a smile.

“…really?”

“Remember, I’m a little shit, according to you.”

“Well, yeah, but you wouldn’t deliberately do something like _that_.” You feel secure in that fact; it wasn’t in Kefka’s nature to hurt someone for fun.

Kefka nods, before stopping in front of the hangar. Already you could see them– behemoths of steel and tubes and Triad only knows what else. You hated the way they looked like they could spring to life at any second, coming after you with great iron claws and their magic-based weapons.

Best to get this over with.

You enter the hangar, suddenly feeling smaller than ever. Coming face to face with one of the great steel beasts wasn’t something you wanted to do, but if you had to do it, then so be it. You climb up the leg and arm of the Armor, slipping into the cockpit with ease.

Now, if only you could remember how to pilot this damn thing.

You look at the dashboard, filled with dread as you look at all of the buttons and levers. They’re not even all labeled, so you can’t decide which lever goes to which limb or what buttons do what.

“Hey, novice,” came a nearby voice, which startles you out of your confused daze. You look down at the source, a rather tall soldier in green armor. “First time in an Armor?”  
“Yeah,” you finally say, looking back down at the dashboard. “I don’t exactly remember what does what, save for how to turn the thing on.”

“Least you know that much.” The soldier crosses his arms. “I swear, more and more stupid people are being sent in to pilot the Armors.”

“I’m not stupid,” you can’t help but snap, “I just forgot what was taught to us in training.”

“Simmer down there, I meant no offense. Now, your levers are for movement: the outermost ones are for the arms, and the innermost ones are for the legs. Those buttons are your lasers: red for fire, blue for ice, yellow for lightning and green to absorb life force. Generally speaking, for the wild animals, you won’t need to press any of the buttons. Hopefully, you won’t need to press them at all… but there are people who _will_ try to fight you, even with the Armor. I suggest just giving them a swipe from the claws.”

It all sounds very morbid to you, but that last bit cinched the deal for you. You gulp, and nod.

“Why don’t you go ahead and try it out,” the soldier in green says, nodding. “Go on. You’ve got enough room to try moving the thing.”

You hesitate, but turn the ignition on. The Armor roars to life, the sound of its engine a constant screaming in your ears. You grab the inner levers and press them forward, full throttle. You feel the Armor suddenly sprint forward and you shout in surprise. You yank the levers back to a neutral position, and the Armor screeches to a halt. You had no idea how _fast_ this thing was. You fiddle more with the levers, clumsily making the thing turn and reverse and even reach out with a claw after mistakenly grabbing the wrong lever. It might take a little practice, but this has the possibility of a potential career choice within the army.

The fun ends when you accidentally press the red button.

A beam shoots from the “mouth” of the Armor, melting the very earth it touches… earth that happened to be mere feet away from the soldier who gave you the rundown on how the Armors worked.

Oops.

“ _What the hell are you doing?!_ ” he cries out, clearly upset with you.

“I didn’t mean to,” you yell over the roar of the Armor’s engine, hurriedly snapping off the machine.

“I swear, that’s the fourth time that’s happened to me this week!” The soldier pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out an irritated groan. “That’s it. I’m going to ask about properly vetting people who’re going to drive these things.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, climbing out of and off of the mech. “My hand slipped.”

From outside, you hear a person cackling with glee.


	3. Chapter 3

The night was pleasant enough. The sky was utterly cloudless, the stars sparkling in the velvet sky like precious stones, crowned by the drifting crescent moon. It was a little chilly, but not intolerable. Your jacket is enough to stave off the nipping cold. You sat under the tree on the hill, gazing up at the stars as they make their way across the sky.

It was another sleepless night.

Even with all of your training and experience, the things you’ve done in the name of the Empire come back to haunt you. The faces of your “enemies” especially come to mind when you’re trying to sleep. Are they really the enemy? Or are they merely the targets of one man’s conquest? What goal are you fighting for? _Is there_ a goal? You frown softly and shake your head. You weren’t supposed to question the Emperor, let alone his thought process.

But there was a lot you didn’t understand.

And frankly, you weren’t sure you _wanted_ to understand.

You sighed out, holding your face in your hands. You remember you came into the army to try to change things from the inside out. Right? Your slow rise through the ranks compared to others made you suspect that your higher-ups _knew_ about your intentions.

But then, you weren’t exactly the best soldier, either. You hesitated when the time came to act, they had said. _But I acted,_ you think to yourself. You press your hands against your eyes, trying to fight back images of the things you’ve done with thoughts of more pleasant things.

The more horrifying images were winning.

You open your eyes and start when you see Kefka kneeling in front of you. You reach for a weapon and swear out loud when you remember that you didn’t bring your rifle and bayonet with you.

“[name]. [name]!” Kefka grabs your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “It’s me. Calm down.”

You can’t help but stare into his eyes, breathing a little too fast. You calm down after a moment, slumping a little. “I’m sorry,” you finally manage. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d come out here and try to relax.”

Kefka releases you, before taking a seat next to you. “I know how it is, [name],” he replies, leaning against the tree. “You’re still not used to combat, are you?”

You shake your head.

“That’s fine.” He cranes his head to look over at you. “I’ll look into getting you transferred to a different position.” He lets out a little _humph_ with a trace of a smile. “Always did think you were more suited to be a medic or some such thing. You weren’t meant to be on the front line. Hell, remember the Magitek Armor incident.”

Remembering the way the Captain had reacted made you smile and relax, as if a wave of relief had washed over you.

“There’s that smile,” Kefka said, smiling wider. “Feeling better, [name]?”

You nod. “Thank you,” you say, half-tempted to hug the man.

“Good. Let’s get you to bed.” Kefka rises, offering his hand to you. You take it, and he helps you up– your hand lingers on his as you look him in the eye, before you pull away and look off to the side. “Come on. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter 4

You’re not entirely sure how you were able to get into this masquerade, but something tells you that Kefka had something to do with it. He was, after all, a general now– _your_ general.

You look around the grand, two-tiered ballroom, the colors and movements of the attendees dizzying. Red and green, yellow and violet, orange and blue, all clashing together and swirling in bizarre unison to a haunting melody, one that wouldn’t leave your head for years and years. You feel modestly dressed compared to the nobility and top brass that are attending. The stone walls of the palace ballroom were clad in Imperial red and black counterchanged, the Imperial insignia emblazoned in gold over it. The smell of delicacies you’ve never dreamed of eating waft from the far end of the room, tantalizing you.

“Ahem.”

You jolt from your daze, looking over to the guard. “Sorry,” you say. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking for your invitation,” he replied, holding out his hand.

“O-oh.” You reach into a hidden pocket in your costume, pulling out the invitation– a neatly folded envelope, the Imperial insignia pressed into a crimson wax seal. The guard looks at the envelope, takes it carefully, and opens it to read the message inside. After a little, he nods. “You may enter, [name]. Do enjoy yourself.”

It was jarring to hear someone else address you as something other than your surname or your ID number.

You finally are able to join the crowd as the guard raises his spear to allow you entry. You carefully step inside, heart pounding in your chest. You’ve come so far since your days of basic training, and you wonder to yourself how this happened. You were a common foot soldier; this was a place for people far, far above your social and military rank.

As you ponder your situation, you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt.

“Fashionably late as ever, [name],” a familiar voice says behind you, a smile in his voice.

You turn around, ready to strike. At first you don’t recognize him, wearing greasepaint and dressed in a jester’s motley, but his striking blue eyes and cheeky smile are quick to ease your tension.

“Damn it, Kefka,” you say indignantly, a flush rising to your cheeks. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Oh, did I?” He seems rather pleased with himself, the smile never leaving his face. “You always were quick to frighten, you know.”

“Kefka…!”

“Oh, what? I’m just having a little fun. Besides,” his smile softens, seeming rather fond. “You wouldn’t be here without me. Though if you think about it, I wouldn’t be here without _you,_ either.”

“Oh.” It takes you a little bit to register what he said. “Wait. _Really?_ ”

“Of course.” He relaxes. “We’ve been supporting one another since day one. I didn’t get to where I am by being a lone wolf.”

“…right,” you say, “but I wouldn’t go so far as to–”

“Ah-ah-ah. Nope.” Kefka presses a finger to your lips. “Not tonight. Tonight, we celebrate our scientists and their breakthroughs.”

“…understood, sir,” you say quietly, looking down. You feel Kefka’s hand cup your chin and lift up your head.

“Don’t be so glum,” he says. “It’ll be okay.”

You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you feel reassured somehow.

“Now,” Kefka says, offering his hand. “Shall we have this dance?”

Graciously, you accept… even though you don’t know how to dance. You look down at your feet, carefully following Kefka’s lead in a waltz. You slowly but surely gain more confidence as you repeat the steps, finding the gentle sway relaxing.

_I could get used to this,_ you think to yourself, closing your eyes and resisting the urge to rest your head against the crook of his neck.

The first thing you notice is the sound of a metal spoon clinking against a wineglass, followed by the music coming to an abrupt stop, a hush falling over the multicolored crowd. You feel upset. You don’t want this to end, not so soon. Kefka holds you as you both look to the second tier of the ballroom. There, standing at the balcony overlooking the dance floor, stands Emperor Gestahl– a great, bearded man wearing the finest gilded robes and a crown. You had been to the rallies before, and had never seen him in this crown before– rare was the occasion Gestahl wore the Imperial royal crown, or so you had heard.

No matter how many times you had to look at him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread or (dare you even think it) hate.

“My dear friends,” the Emperor begins, “as you are well aware, we are gathered here tonight in celebration of the ever-forward march of scientific progress. Our Magictek scientists and engineers, at this very moment, are working to make _us_ the greatest empire this world has ever seen.”

This is met with uproarious applause.

“Now, my people,” he continues, “it is time to reveal our latest development. For some time, our scientists and engineers have been working on a means of granting humans the gift of Magic. I can safely say, with full confidence, that we may have found a means of doing so. _However._ ” Gestahl pauses, perhaps for dramatic effect, as he’s prone to doing. “I am not at liberty to say _how_ this will be conducted, lest there be Returner spies in the crowd tonight.”

The crowd murmurs among themselves, almost accusingly.

“Now, now. I jest. I can safely say, however, that they are ready to begin human testing. A volunteer has so bravely put his life on the line in the name of progress.”

“That’d be me,” Kefka whispers to you.

You look at him, shocked. “Kefka–”

“It’ll be fine.” He looks at you, a soft smile on his face. “I promise.”

This time, you weren’t reassured. In fact, you were terrified. What would happen if he died? Or if he fell into a coma? So many what-ifs filled your head that it drowned out the rest of the Emperor’s speech. You held onto Kefka tighter, afraid of letting him go.

You didn’t want to lose him.

You hate to admit it, but you love him, damn it.

The crowd cheers as they raise their glasses. You want to cry, instead.

“[name], are you okay?” Kefka jostles you a little, concerned.

“No.” You shake your head. “Kefka… you can’t do this.”

“I have to. If not me, then who’ll do it?”

“You could die. What happens then?”

Kefka looks down as he contemplates. “I don’t know. I just know that this needs to happen.” He frowns. “If not me, they’ll pluck up someone from the streets.”

“How are you sure about that?”

“I’m not. But I wouldn’t put it past them.” Then, with unusual venom in his voice, “Damnable vultures, the lot of them.”

“Kefka…”

“I know.” He gently squeezes you. “I’m sorry.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with an update! I was preoccupied with getting my shit together during quarantine, and getting involved with another fandom. Hope this chapter breaks your hearts as much as it broke mine while writing it!

You were summoned to Vector with some haste.

The masquerade felt like only yesterday, but in reality a whole week had passed-- a whole week without hearing a word about Kefka or his whereabouts. You had worried about him the whole time, of course, but perhaps here, in Vector, you could get some answers. You were given a location, and told to bring no one with you-- something you found very, very peculiar. You listened-- after all, you’ve already come so far in your military career… why would you want to lose that?

You opened the door, greeted with a stark white interior that contrasted heavily with the rest of Vector. _A hospital,_ you thought. _But why would I be summoned to a hospital alone?_ You furrowed a brow, but stepped to the check-in desk and cleared your throat.

The nurse looked up at you and asked, “Your name, please?”

“[Name],” you responded, before adding, “I was asked to come here.”

“… I see.” The nurse wrote down some notes. “I know why you’re here. Come with me, please.”

The nurse rose, mentioning for you to follow. You did, following them further into the hospital and to a sealed off wing  on the first floor, and even then, the room you were lead to was furthest back and heavily guarded. You wondered what the hell was going on in there, but said nothing to the nurse or to the guards until asked for clearance, wherein you provided your credentials.

“Be careful in there,” one of the guards said. “You don’t know what he’ll do. Heard he gave one of the scientists some pretty nasty burns… but maybe you’ll be different. He asked for you by name, after all.”

The guard opened the heavy door for you, pulling it outwards. You stepped into the dimly-lit room, looking around at all of the strange machinery and wires.

“There you are,” came a familiar voice. “I was wondering if you’d be allowed in… or if you would come.”

You looked to the center of the mass of wires and tubes and machines, to the ghastly pale and wiry-thin man on the hospital bed. You barely recognized him-- so much had changed, but that voice was unmistakably…

“Kefka?” you said, your voice weak. “What… what did they do to you?!”

He offered a smile and raised a finger to his lips. “That, dear [name], is classified information.”

You choked back a sob, stepping closer to him. “Kefka… Kefka, by the Triad--”

“Sssh.” The smile never left his face. “I’m fine now, [name]. In fact, I’ve never been better.”

“How can you  _say_ that?” Your voice cracked. “You… you look like death warmed over!”

“Watch.” Kefka raised a hand. The machines went wild before he snapped his fingers, a flame dancing over his raised finger. You stared at the flame for a moment before he blew it out, the machines slowly returning to their normal functions.

“You… how…?” you stammered,  unable to help but stare.

“Magic. Well, Magitek, really. Semantics, semantics.” Kefka chuckled. “Oh, the fun I’ll have once I’ve recovered…”

A pair of doctors entered the room, seeming hurried. Perhaps the machines had alerted them to Kefka’s activity. One of them held a syringe  and a vial of unknown liquid.  You instinctively backed towards Kefka.

“What are you doing?” you asked as the doctor(?) filled the syringe.

“Applying a sedative,” the doctor replied. “ He’s not supposed to use his… abilities during recovery.”

“ _Stay away from him_ ,” you snapped, the hair on the back of your neck rising. “ _You’ve done enough to him, damn it, leave him alo--_ ”

You felt a hand holding yours-- unusually warm, but nonetheless comforting. You looked back at Kefka, who seemed a little more tired.

“Now, now, [name],” he chided almost playfully, “I can defend myself. Though seeing you stand up for me like you used to… even after all this… it warms my heart.”

“Kefka,” you began, but couldn’t fight back the tears anymore. You wept bitterly at Kefka’s fate while the doctors applied the sedative.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know this chapter's a weak hook. But I wrote this over a year ago, just to indulge myself. But with a little encouragement, I wrote more, and I'm really starting to like it.


End file.
